


And Miles on Beyond

by thecarlysutra



Category: Thunderheart (1992)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-19
Updated: 2011-04-19
Packaged: 2017-10-18 09:01:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/187207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecarlysutra/pseuds/thecarlysutra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SUMMARY: The boys get lost in the desert, and it's all Walter's fault.<br/>AUTHOR’S NOTES: Written for staringiscaring's prompt, the lyrics that begin the story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And Miles on Beyond

  
_Ran into the devil, babe, he loaned me twenty bills  
I spent the night in Utah in a cave up in the hills._

Set out runnin' but I take my time, a friend of the devil is a friend of mine,  
If I get home before daylight, I just might get some sleep tonight.  
      —The Grateful Dead, _Friend of the Devil_

Even in the summer, spending the night in the desert is a mistake, but sometimes you have to pick the lesser of two evils. Walter’s a good tracker but they’re miles from the rez, and they’ve been lost for hours. They could keep looking for a way out, here in the dark with the coyotes and the rattlesnakes, the batteries of their flashlights growing weaker and weaker. Ray just says once, “We need to make camp for the night,” and Walter folds immediately, because what Ray hasn’t said, not one time, is, “This is all your fault.”

It was Walter’s idea to leave the rez after a bail jumper, and it was Walter’s insistence that they keep after him even when they were plainly lost, the car vanished somewhere in the heat-waver of the horizon. Ray got sunburned, of course, and they didn’t pack enough water, but Ray hadn’t said a word about how fucked they were, or how it was all Walter’s doing. And Walter could kiss him for it.

They find enough brush to build a fire, and then strip down and make a little cocoon of their clothes to snuggle within, skin-to-skin.

Ray burrows his face into the curve where Walter’s neck meets his shoulder.

“Have you ever done this before?” Ray asks, the words broken slightly by the quiet chatter of his teeth.

Ray shivers, and Walter runs his palms over Ray’s flesh, like rubbing down a horse, trying to warm him up some. His skin’s sore from the sunburn, though, and he mewls quietly, winces, presses himself closer to Walter.

“Spent the night in the desert, you mean? Couple times. We’ll be okay.”

 _Unless we get eaten by coyotes,_ he thinks. _Or freeze to death._

But Walter can tell Ray is soothed; Ray relaxes against him. Walter teases the hairline at the nape of Ray’s neck with his fingers, and Ray sighs quietly. He presses a lazy kiss to Walter’s shoulder, and then trails his knuckles down Walter’s body, his hand settling between Walter’s legs.

“You ever done _this_ before?” he whispers.

Walter groans. He thrusts into Ray’s palm, but Ray withdraws his hand. Walter is about to protest, but then Ray twists within the makeshift sleeping bag, turning his back to Walter. Walter cradles Ray around the middle with one hand, parts his legs with the other.

“We’ve done this before,” Walter says huskily against Ray’s ear, and pushes himself home. “You know that.”

“In the desert?” Ray says. “We’ve never done it in the desert.”

Walter holds Ray about the ribs with one hand, now, and sneaks his other hand down around Ray’s waist to take care of him. Walter loves Ray with his hand, and moves slowly inside him.

“No,” he says finally, thoughtfully. “Never have done it in the desert before.”

Ray keens and presses himself back against Walter, the knuckles of his spine pushing against Walter’s chest.

“Good,” Ray pants. “I want to—I want to be your first. I want to take your virginity, like you took mine.”

“You weren’t a virgin when we met.”

“I’d never been with a man before. You were—you were my first. I want to be your first at something.”

Walter moves inside Ray, and listens to the small, desperate noises Ray makes as he thrusts into Walter’s palm. The sunburn has made Ray’s skin fever hot and extra sensitive, and Walter teases it with his tongue just to hear Ray mewl and pant, to feel his muscles strain and shiver.

“You already are,” Walter says.

And then Ray says, “Really?” and he sounds so proud and hopeful that it makes Walter’s heart swell in his chest, and he hadn’t been planning on saying the rest, but he can’t stand to think of taking that from him.

“I’d never been in love before. I mean, not like I am with you.”

And Ray goes still, and his mouth opens like he’s about to speak. But there’s a beat and instead of talking he comes, so hard that Walter can feel Ray’s muscles shuddering like he’s just run a marathon, so hard that for a long moment after he just gasps, trying to get his breath back, because for a moment all Ray’s body wanted was that sensation and it forsook everything else. And Walter takes Ray by the jaw and turns him back to face him, and he kisses him, long and slow and how he deserves to be kissed, breathing into him how much Walter loves him, which is as far as the stars stretch out above them, and miles on beyond.

And Ray just holds onto Walter’s arms around him, and he says, “Me too,” which is enough.  



End file.
